Bloody Heirlooms

The uncontested queen sat, staring vacantly at the edge of the basin. Naked and slathered with rich creamy soap, servants hastily bustle about in preparation for their queen’s victory feast. They’re like ants, hustling about afraid...perhaps they are afraid of me, after what I had just done, I wouldn’t blame them, the queen thought and quickly averted her attention back to thinking of nothing but that edge of the tub. Servants sat at her grand table sifting through clothes and banners for the feast. Many were so entranced in their work they failed to notice the queen’s presence while others had a harder time such as the ones tending to her. One such servant snaps to action and brushes the queen’s hair, another pours water over her shoulders and attempts to wash the blood from the queen’s milky skin. It swirls amid the blackened waters surrounding her.

It becomes too much of a sight that the queen’s sharp gaze becomes enraptured with the tendrils of red among the black. Blood, that's not my blood, but my sisters’. She’s dead and I have emerged victorious. Was it worth it? Was it my queen? A voice asks her from inside her head. The queen answers out loud, “She betrayed me, I did what I had to” The queen sat unaware of the looks of piercing fear upon the faces of her tending servants. Not fear for her majesty, of course, but for themselves and their families. The queen was not very merciful before this new apparent madness. One youthful girl steps forward, ignorant of the disapproving looks from the senior woman, and gently grasps the queen’s elbow to help her from the tub.

The queen accepts the help dully. Once she is standing naked and dripping, the filth of the day is drained. If only madness could be cured just as easily, many inside the tent thought. A dress of purple taken from the ink of a rare crab and silkworms across the sea, the wealth of that deep purple and cloth unfathomable to those tending to her majesty. Once the dress is before her and the youthful maid again steps forward to assist, the queen's attention snaps to the girl. Everyone halts and worried glances are thrown across the large rich tent. “I can do it, everyone out.” Everyone hustles out except for that young girl. With the queen’s gaze ever piercing, she dares to ask, “May I stay your majesty?”

The queen is mildly shocked enough to wonder at the bravery of this girl. A simple nod has the girl somewhat relaxed and she asks to assist her highness in dressing, another nod is her reply. Once the dress is on, the queen nods to the maid again. Once more the shock of the day's battle pulls the queen under and she stares vacantly across the tent having sat upon a simple gold inlaid chair. The servant not having been clearly dismissed crossed to the side of the queen and sits legs crossed at her feet. After a moment of silence, the simple girl asks the queen a question.

“What was it like? The men of old? My gran says that there were cars that drove upon great concrete. They could make a trip in a day what could take a month of walking or two weeks on horseback? Is it true?” The queen looks down upon this girl and sees not her servant but her sister, before the war, before her..passing. Her sister was once curious about the men of old too. Perhaps it was for this reason that the queen deigned to entertain her maid. The queen’s voice was a deep rasping likely from the screaming during battle. “Cars, yes, giant pieces of metal that never tire and could move at great speeds.” Excitement lights the youth’s eyes “ Faster than horses?” A quiet yes was the answer.

A silence descends for a moment before, “ What happened to the men of old?” The queen takes a moment to think before, “ My mother’s mother had a difficult time explaining the exact events due to it being before even her time, but it was a dark event. She said a EM... something took out their cars and other magical machines.” The girl cuts in, “What's a machine?” Shame colors her face at having interrupted the queen. The queen smiles so slightly it is likely not seen by the young girl. “A machine from what my ma said, was a heart of sorts made from metal that made things like a car possible. There were many machines then. It was those machines that ended the men of old. They were too reliant on them, so much so that when their enemies figured out how to take them away, the men of old crumbled. Their cars rusted and joined the ground, as did their cloud reaching buildings. There are some ruins left, but not many.”

“Is it true that they could fly?” The queen is tiring of looking upon her sister’s face, a memory too painful to face surfaces and the queen looks to her richly adorned tent and unable to escape the child’s queer gaze, seeks refuge upon the roof of the tent. Another nod to answer the child’s question. “ Aye they had a metal machine for that too.” The queen brings her gaze back downward, because the child had fallen silent. The queen noted that there was more curiosity brimming to burst from the child, but there was a hesitant look upon her face. A sigh escapes the queen’s lips and she prompts the lass with a barely restrained nod. The child hesitates once more, before very quietly saying, “ Everyone is so afraid of you, but you seem nice or rather you answer my questions. Why...do they fear you, my queen?”

“Child I am tired, please leave me to retire for the night.” With a nod the young girl stands and as she turns to leave, she notices a necklace laying upon the queens table beside the entrance flap. It is covered in blood and yet the metal’s beauty entrances her. The queen, noticing the youths attention, has once again wondered, she stands and walks to perch beside the child. “It's so pretty.” Silence was the queen’s only reply and she stared very sadly at the bloody necklace. It’s shape is that of a heart and a hinge to the side of the necklace hints to a secret inside the beautiful metal. Etchings line the front of the locket in intricate whorls and swirls. My sister’s blood adorns the cracks. A sudden hatred for the necklace fills the queen and a snarl lifts her beautiful face.

The child steps back, the first traces of fear seen upon her simple face. The queen sees it and growls, “ Out child for the last time, I wish to be alone. Can’t you see?” The girl opens her mouth to speak and the queen's hair thin patience runs out. She yells without much voice left after battle that morning, but with a vengeance that has the girl picking up her skirts and all but fleeing. The silence that ensues is the queen’s undoing and the full madness sinks its claws into her mind. The now ever present voice inside, speaks yet again, “I am here, because you have damned yourself. You killed her, look upon your prize for doing so.” The queen stopped her frantic pacing that started after the girl’s departure without her own noticing, to gaze upon her bloody trophy. The necklace seemed to sing and croon hauntedly at her. “Come touch me O’ queen of death, Queen of blood and ruin. You killed her- you sister, now come forward to claim me.” The queen steps forward and the melody gets ever stronger and she can feel her tears pouring forth from her eyes and yet they stay fixated upon the bloody heirloom.

“I killed her yes..but she betrayed me, I had to.. Had to..” She can still feel the resistance her sister had given as she plunged that dagger for her heart. She remembered how it felt to strain against her sobbing as the now bloodied jewelry swung clenched between the girls’ hands wrapped around the dagger as it was moving lower and lower towards Elaine's exposed chest. “I didn’t tip them off. I promise.” “ You and I were the only ones who knew our enemies movements and that the right flank was weakest.” It was painfully obvious that our enemies knew what we were planning and had maneuvered us into a bad position. The only reason we were not dead was that our allies finally arrived after sending a dispatcher to my tent about their neutrality in this war.

They changed their minds and arrived just in the nick of time. This was neither here nor there, as I was out for blood. I knew my sister loved the opposing soldier’s commander and whether he loved her the same I didn’t know or care. She likely tipped him off, so that he could escape. Instead he chose to use this information to counterstrike and nearly won the battle. I was enraged, but never intended for the blade to hit its mark, only to scare her. I felt it, the blade sank as her strength failed her, it bit into her exposed flesh. We both stared down in shock before her eyes went vacant. My roar of anguish could be heard from across the plain.

The queen closes her eyes against a fresh wave of tears. Her mutterings could be heard by any passing her tent. The two guards standing watch outside exchange worried glances for the seventh time in the last half hour. As dark descends over the camp, the next rotation of guards arrives and in the shadows, no one notices the muffled scream as a blade slices flesh and a near silent thud, before the queen’s tent flap is pushed open. The queen didn't care as her guard walked slowly towards her. “Where is Elaine?” A wicked grin, one of madness lights the queen's once stunning face. Now it is sunken from lack of sleep and food. She still wears her purple dress from so many days or was it weeks ago? That battle still fresh in her mind as well as the ensuing nightmare that happened afterwards with her sister.

“Are you her lover, what was that name again… Colin?” He takes another step closer and says again, “ Where is she? What have you done to her? My scouts haven’t seen her for a whole week.” The queen mumbles, seeming to forget that this man is even there. “It’s been a week has it? Hmhm Elain Oh where have you gone sister?” The man grows agitated and swivels on his feet to survey the tent, his gaze takes in the booze bottles littering the floor and anger glints in his dark eyes when he sees Elaine's necklace resting upon the table. He picks it up noting the dried blood and thrusts it in her face letting his anger simmer to the surface he asks for a final time, “Where. Is. Elain?”

A moment of clarity clears the queen’s eyes. With the softest whisper the queen has ever uttered in her life she answers, “Dead.” So soft was her reply the male surely hadn’t heard it and yet he could guess the answer. He knew this pitiful woman before him was capable of it, unlike the woman he loved. Rage has him removing his dagger, and plunging it into her neck. It unnerved him to see she never once had any fear in her empty eyes. They were just that-empty, even in death they were empty. Maybe she was dead even whilst she breathed. Either way he left that locket on the soil beside her head and her blood slowly crept towards that discarded heirloom to join her sisters.